Con Amore da Capo
by Gagamoo
Summary: Bowing to a standing ovation, Phoenix didn't think his musical career could falter at all. But as an orchestral swap lands him with a familiar, yet unknown face, he was about to learn how easily it could all go wrong. PxE
1. Chapter 1

Without Craftsmanship, Inspiration Is Just A Mere Reed Shaken In The Wind

_Johannes Brahms (1833-1897)_

The auditorium was silent as the distinctive tone of the oboe rang out clear and strong, before being joined, one by one by the rest of the orchestra. First violinist Franziska von Karma brought in each section, starting with the rest of the woodwind, the strings, the percussion and finally the horns. The sound grew, flooding the entire auditorium, as the instrumentalists tuned for the final time before the performance; octave leaps, quick runs and last minute reed changes. All to make sure the last concert of the season ran as it should.

The all-too familiar sound of an entire orchestra tuning to concert A filled Phoenix Wright's ears as he tried to calm himself backstage while tuning his own violin at the same time. Breathing deeply in through his nose, he attempted to stop his hands from shaking; now was not the time for inaccuracies. A comforting hand placed itself on his shoulder, and he turned to see his conductor, Lana Skye smiling at him, a look of understanding in her sea blue eyes.

"The first concert is always the worse. It'll never get easier, but it will get better."

She withdrew her hand from his shoulder, and swept up her long chestnut brown hair into a tightly wrapped bun. A simple man Phoenix was, and wondering how she could do that so quickly, and without a mirror, took away his anxiety for a fleeting moment. She caught him staring and smiled "the last thing I need is hair in my eye halfway through a piece. The motion of getting it out may confuse the brass section" laughing quietly to herself, she looked through the glass window in the door leading to the stage.

The sound of the orchestra died away, and suspense lingered in the air as the musicians and the audience waited for the entrance of the conductor, and the soloist. Phoenix felt his nerves come rushing back like a wave crashing down onto an unsuspecting beach.

"Blow them away Phoenix" Lana whispered as she gestured to the man to lead the way onto the stage, a roar of applause greeting them as they made their way to their respective places.

Phoenix stared out over the audience, feeling the weight of the instrument in his left hand, the length of the bow in his right, as they became an extension of him, a part of him. He heard the shuffle of instruments moving as Lana held up her baton to gain the attention of the orchestra.

She gave them two beats in and they were off.

The end-of-season party was an event the entire ensemble looked forward to. In essence, it was 'we've worked very hard, let us reward ourselves with copious amounts of alcohol.'

The ballroom in which they celebrated was by most standards, enormous. Giant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, while waiters busily scurried around, offering champagne flutes and wine to those with empty hands or empty glasses. The guests, which included members of the orchestra, their sponsors, family and close friends, mingled around the long tables at which they'd eaten earlier on that evening. A raised stage stood at one end, upon which a microphone and stand had been erected.

'Ahem!'

The gathering was silenced by an abrupt cough and the tinkle of a glass being tapped, the ensemble turned to see the orchestra's manager smiling broadly at them all from the stage next to Lana Skye, apparently unaware of the microphone's presence.

Marvin Grossberg was a portly man, who seemed to have more hair on his upper lip than on his head. His hearing was lacking (Maya had seen the hairy caterpillars growing in his ears and was convinced that this was the cause) which lead some ignorant critics and members of the public question his ability to lead an orchestra. For several years now, he had been an integral part of the orchestra, and despite his appearance, which led many to believe he wasn't up for the job; he was one of the most respected men in the industry. However, to his credit, many would acknowledge that it was due to him that the L.A. Philharmonic had become such a success over the recent years.

"Well now, I just wanted to congratulate you all on a stupendous season, very good, very good indeed! We have all outdone ourselves once more! I would in particular like to thank Miss Lana Skye you see; she's been a wonderful conductor, really. Ah, reminds me of the days of my youth, like the scent of fresh lemons! Oh, and Mr. Wright, I must congratulate you on your flawless performance of Paganini's first Violin Concerto, truly wonderful, absolutely superb."

A Mexican wave of murmurs made its way round the room; Phoenix just grinned sheepishly, while Maya jabbed him with her elbow and gave him a very smug "told you" look.

"But finally, before we drink the night away, I would like to bring your attention to next season's final piece. I would like for this orchestra to perform Johannes Brahms' Double Concerto in A minor, for cello, violin and orchestra. And I think that it's perfectly fitting to ask Mr. Wright to play the lead solo violin after last night's fantastic playing. You'll accept won't you? Of course you will!"

The hall erupted into a roar of approval at Grossberg's decision. Maya was hastily patting the man in question's back as the champagne he was drinking had gone down the wrong way. Very elegant indeed. Taking a moment to settle himself, he graciously thanked Grossberg for yet another wonderful opportunity. He couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed. While his ambition had always been to share his music with the world, he didn't quite expect it to happen so soon after graduating, which for him, was a mere 18 months ago. Despite this, his lack of performing experience and worries would not let him throw the opportunity away. After all, if he didn't take the piece, not only would it take a remarkably long time before he was given the honour again, but that there would be several others waiting to leap on the part, given the chance. Kristoph Gavin being one of many. Lost in his musings, it was only Franziska's sharp voice that brought him out of his daydream and back into the room.

"But Mr. Grossberg, the Brahms Concerto has solo parts for both violin and cello. Who is playing the other part?"

The older man smiled at her, a twinkle in his eye. "I was hoping someone would ask that Miss von Karma. As you all know, L.A. Philharmonic has been involved with an exciting exchange with the U.K.'s Hallé orchestra. For the next season, we shall be bidding a fond farewell to our first clarinettist, Miss Mia Fey, who we shall miss dearly until her return, but in her place the Hallé are allowing us to 'borrow' so to speak, their best cellist. I've been hearing very good things about this young man, a prodigy you know, just like myself in the days of my youth. He will be taking the solo cello part in the concerto, playing alongside Mr. Wright. So if you wouldn't mind I would like to introduce you to our new cellist for the season, Mr. Miles Edgeworth."

Polite applause for the new musician echoed around the hall, as the masses parted to let through Edgeworth as he made his way to the platform where Grossberg was standing.

Phoenix couldn't help but stare. A sense of deja vu came upon him. _Miles Edgeworth_. The name seemed familiar, yet very foreign. He watched as the man turned to face them all, steel eyes framed by dark hair, already showing signs of premature greying. He gathered that they must both be around the same age; twenty four, give or take a couple of years. His appearance, is strange, by the standards of most. A magenta suit jacket, and a cravat. _'Must be a British thing'_ he thought. Colours aside, this young man governed attention, he could be wearing fuchsia and a polka-dot tie, and no-one would dare question him on it. He gave off a commanding, and intimidating aura, which demanded the attention of those around him, as he surveyed the room, taking in each and every one of the people staring at him, before clearing his throat to speak.

"Good evening. As you know, my name is Miles Edgeworth. I am very honoured to be working with such a prestigious orchestra." He broke off allowing himself time to form his next sentences. "I am very confident that I will play to your standards over here. Like Mr. Grossberg said, I am a full-time member of the Hallé orchestra in England, and have been since I finished my studies. I truly hope that our time together this season will be productive and our performances perfect. I will see you all on Monday morning for our first rehearsal." He stepped away from the microphone, making movements indicating he was about to leave the stage, and by the sounds of it, the celebrations as well.

"Ah, Mr. Edgeworth, will you not be joining us for a drink or two?"

He turned sharply to face Lana, her sharp blue eyes regarding him with intrigue. Lana had heard a lot about Miles Edgeworth, how he'd lock himself away for hours on end to practice, refusing to perform a piece unless it was flawless in the way of technique and notation. While it was true Edgeworth was considered a virtuoso, compared to the likes of Rostropovich, the critics still found areas to comment on, particularly about his style. Flawless as it was, the critics deemed it 'too robotic', 'mechanical' and 'stiff'. It was one of the reasons Lana had persuaded Grossberg to choose Phoenix to play the second solo. While Franziska was a truly stunning performer, and the piece was well within her capability, Phoenix had that little edge, a natural flair, and emotion to his playing that Franziska didn't have, and she hoped that this energy would rub off on Edgeworth during his time with the orchestra.

"I appreciate the offer Miss Skye, however I have other matters I must attend to. I will see you on Monday."

And with that parting comment, Miles Edgeworth took his leave.

The room was left in a stunned silence, eyes trained on the rather unimpressed look Lana Skye wore on her face. She opened her mouth the address the group, when Grossberg quickly intervened, lifting his glass proclaiming "Let us toast to another successful season!"

Everyone cheered touching their glasses together, and drinking as one, the atmosphere regained its former state; relaxed and cheerful.

"Gee, that Edgeworth was such a buzz kill, wasn't he Nick? I feel sorry for you, having to play with him! I wonder if he knows how to smile. Maybe it's a European thing? I've never known anyone to turn down a party!" Phoenix sighed and downed the remaining wine in his glass, looking over at Maya who was giving him a look of sympathy after finishing her rambling.

"You should pay attention when he plays Phoenix Wright."

The pair turned to see Franziska looking at them smugly, a glass of red wine cupped in her left hand, right hand on her hip. "Miles Edgeworth may not be perfect, but he is much closer than you. You'd do well to recognise that." Phoenix eyed her with intrigue "You've heard of this guy Franziska?" Maya enquired. "Heard of him? Fool! I _know_ him! He is my little brother" she replied, laughing at their shocked faces. "Of course, we're not related though, he dragged the great name of von Karma through the mud and broke my father's heart, but we were indeed brought up together. I don't think I remember a time before he came into our family. He was very lucky my father decided to take him in. Anyway, if you don't think you're up to playing the violin solo, don't feel too bad about passing it to me. We both know I'm better suited to it." She smiled and continued walking past the pair.

"I see how they can be related. By blood or otherwise." remarked Maya as Franziska disappeared back into the crowd. Phoenix smiled at her, the effects of alcohol kicking in "Well, let's not let either of them spoil our night Maya, we deserve a celebration!"

It was Saturday afternoon, the day after the celebrations. Lana had rung a rather hungover Phoenix that morning to arrange a meeting between them in the afternoon, in a small coffee shop that she frequently visited.

The journey was pleasant, and uneventful. For once, the sun was shining and the sky was blue with not a single cloud in sight. It was days like these Phoenix didn't mind the walk into the city centre. The road was long but straight, with hedges either side that sped off into the distance. He figured he must look quite a sight to the majority of people; all suited up on such a sunny day. But he was getting more stares because of the sunglasses really. They didn't particularly match the suit in all honesty. But he didn't particularly care, his head was pounding too much to cope with the sun's unyielding glare, and besides, he wasn't too keen on keeping up with fashion anyhow.

He made his way through the concrete jungle, and finally made it to the little shop. Pushing open the door, a ringing signalling his arrival, he quickly spotted Lana. She seemed rather engaged in what appeared to be a relatively one-sided conversation with a man who sat with his back to the door. Phoenix made his way over to their table, only pausing slightly to the waitress, requesting his usual, tea, with milk and a lot of sugar. As he approached, Lana looked up and smiled, standing to greet him properly. As she did so, Miles Edgeworth turned to see him, also standing.

"Phoenix! So glad you could make it at such short notice! I wanted to take the opportunity to introduce Miles and yourself properly, there wasn't much time last night to do so, after all." Lana gestured to Edgeworth who in turn held out his hand towards Phoenix.

"Wright."

The dark haired man ignored the use of his last name, smiled and stepped forward, grabbing the outstretched hand and firmly shaking it. "It's a pleasure to meet you Miles, I really look forward to performing with you. I'm sure we'll get along really well, like a house on fire!" He stumbled back slightly when Edgeworth quickly snapped his hand back, slightly startled at the reaction he'd acquired from the other man.

"I would much rather you refer to me as 'Edgeworth', like the majority of people do" his steel eyes darted towards Lana who realised that she had also been referring to him as 'Miles'. "I prefer to keep my relationships purely professional, and being on first-name terms really hinders rather than helps. We are professionals in our career, and I wish to maintain that image. That doesn't include friendly 'get-togethers' when we feel like it. I'm sure that you will understand and respect this."

Phoenix glared, his eyes taking on an unfamiliar anger, different from the determination Lana often saw in them before performances. She furrowed her brow in thought. This wasn't what she had hoped for at all. She knew that they were never going to hit it off amazingly well – they were just _too_ different, but she had hoped that they would at least be friendly with one another. However, it would seem that this was not going to be the case. She would need to intervene herself.

"Now, now gentlemen. I don't know what sort of pieces you've performed Mr. Edgeworth," The name slipped off her tongue with ease, "but over here, we wish for our players to have a passion, and an energy that is seen by the audience. We want them to _feel_ what you, the performer is feeling. I don't see how you and Mr. Wright will convey a convincing performance if you feel any sort of animosity towards each other. Now since you don't seem to want to willingly make a bond, I feel that I must force you to make one. The reputation of the orchestra will not be tarnished because you two can't play together nicely." The two men stared at each other, neither one of them wanting to back down.

"So, instead of allowing you two to go your own ways about this, I request that both of you regularly meet up." Her words drew the attention of both men to her instantly. Phoenix was the first to speak, stepping forward to block her view of Edgeworth.

"Sorry Lana, what did you just say? You want me to socialize with this man? Did you even hear what he just said to me?"

Lana quietly cleared her throat, a clear signal to Phoenix that she was not finished, and that he should _shut up_. "Yes. That's exactly what I want you both to do. I will not argue with either of you on this matter, if you think this will be too difficult for you, I have no problems giving your solo to someone else. Grossberg will be informed. By the time the night of the concert arrives, I want you to at least be able to convincingly act like good friends. Hell, you should know each other well enough to be _lovers_. Between the two of you, I want you to arrange one, if not two, out of rehearsal meetings a week. I also want you to rehearse privately together. I don't care where you meet up, whether it be a coffee shop, a restaurant or each other's houses. You _will_ get to know each other; do I make myself crystal clear?"

Both men nodded sharply, refusing to look at each other. The waitress who Phoenix ordered his tea from (he wasn't a big coffee fan) scurried up, and sensing the tense atmosphere, quickly placed the cup and saucer on the table and hurried away.

Lana visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping. "Well then boys, I'll leave you to it. You're both here now, and there's no point wasting an opportunity is there?"

And before either man could object to that, Lana Skye picked up her bag, and left the coffee house, a small smile playing on her lips.

The two men looked at the table, and then at each other. Phoenix sighed.

"I can't believe she left us with the bill."

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright or any of it's characters, that right will sadly, never be mine. However, the plot, is mine :)<p>

A/N: It's been a long time since I wrote anything like this, please let me know what you think! Reviews are love! Also, I would greatly suggest you listen to pieces the Orchestra will play, especially the Brahms, it was picked for a reason ;)


	2. Chapter 2

In Order To Create There Must Be A Dynamic Force, And What Force Is More Potent Than Love?

- Igor Stravinsky (1882 - 1971)

The two men sat in silence. Edgeworth was sipping his coffee. Black, and as bitter as he himself was. Phoenix could smell it from where he was sitting, the smell burning his nostrils. He sighed and leaned back into the plush sofa, staring at the hustle and bustle of the city outside the window. Lana had made herself clear, for them to keep their solos, they needed to get along. And it didn't look like Mr. Uptight over there was going to initiate any conversation, so Phoenix resigned himself to the fact that if they were going to get anywhere, he would have to be the one to instigate it.

"So, Edgeworth." He placed great care in remembering to refer to the man by his last name, "How long have you been playing the cello for?" The other man lowered his cup, appearing to study it before responding.

"Twelve years."

"That's a rather long time. I myself have been playing the violin for going on thirteen years. Do you play any other instruments?" He was trying to mould his questions so they were more open-ended, giving the cellist an opportunity to elaborate on his answers.

"The violin and the oboe."

An opportunity he would be quite happy to ignore, it would seem. He sighed and finished off his tea, wincing slightly at the amount of sugar the waitress had put in.

"The oboe is a bit different isn't it? Well, compared to the violin and cello. How long have you been playing the violin for then?"

Edgeworth looked at him, clearly unimpressed. "I have been playing the oboe for well over fourteen years, the violin, for just under ten, if you must know."

He returned to his coffee. Phoenix just stared.

"Are you going to contribute to this conversation at all, apart from sparsely answering my questions?"

Edgeworth looked up from him cup at him. "Not if I can avoid it."

The pair sat in silence. Edgeworth nonchalantly sipping at his coffee, as if there was nothing wrong. Phoenix on the other hand, was reeling from the manner, the _rudeness_ the other man deemed appropriate to use when he spoke to him. As much as he was trying to retain his composure on the outside, his anger at the other. Placing the empty cup down on the saucer with unceremonious _clank,_ he grabbed his belongings and stood up.

"I have no idea what is wrong with you, or how you can possibly _think_ that it is fine to speak to people in the manner that you do, but I strongly advise you sort yourself out before Monday. You may speak to your colleges back in the UK in such a way, but I can assure you that, I, Lana and the rest of the Orchestra will not put up with you if you continue like this."

Edgeworth raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, watching the brunette walk away from the table and out of the door, waiting by the pavement for the next bus to arrive. _'Didn't he walk here?'_ he mused, as right on time, a bus pulled up. Phoenix got on, and engaged in conversation with the bus driver, him turning out his pockets and shrugging at the driver. The driver sighed heavily - Edgeworth was almost surprised he didn't hear it - as he thumbed in Phoenix, who seemed a little, if not very embarrassed at the spectacle he'd made.

He smirked, and went back to his coffee.

Phoenix collapsed into the bus seat, looking up as the sky clouded over, the decision to take the bus was most definitely a good one, despite the embarrassment from his lack of fare. He sighed. Why on Earth did Edgeworth have to be a complete and utter bastard? It doesn't cost anything to be _nice_ for Christ's sake. More than that, he was beginning to doubt his own ability to deal with him, and panicking about the concerto. If Edgeworth was going to be this demeaning towards him, Phoenix couldn't speak for the two of them, but he could speak for himself – he would struggle to get his solo to the standard he would want it to be. He knew he was more than capable than playing the piece. But with Edgeworth? Perhaps not. If anything, the audience would feel the tension and animosity between the two, rather than the light sensation of two beautiful instruments interweaving with each other. The performance would end up being about the performers themselves, and not the music. Something Phoenix would hate to happen. He would rather give the solo to someone else, than allow something like that to happen...

The light bulb flashed on, followed by a huge feeling of disappointment. Edgeworth would never give up the solo. It would be the crowning glory for his time spent in the US. He sighed once more, sinking further into the seat, if it were even possible. It would seem that once again, it was time to go and see Lana.

His heels clacked against the polished floor, the echo bouncing off the walls of the hallway, deserted except for himself. Lana Skye's office was on the top floor, and the only other person who worked on this floor was her secretary, Heather Potter.

Phoenix strode into her reception; Miss Potter was engrossed in what seemed to be a not-so-professional phone conversation; nothing unusual then. She looked up as he walked in, smiled and just pointed him through, while laughing quietly into the phone, a lilting sound, pleasant to the ear. The violinist wondered what she could possibly be talking about, and to whom! A conversation that seemed to be built around shoe fittings, families, work shifts and Classical music seemed an odd amalgam of topics to speak about.

Walking through to Lana's office, he knew this was a good time to visit, lunch hour. Due to the nature of this hour, Lana was very rarely too busy to see anyone at this point in the day.

The lady herself didn't even look up from her papers when she heard the knock on her office door.

"It's open Phoenix, let yourself in."

Creaking as it opened, only then did she look up to greet the young musician as he tentatively entered her office. She smiled at him, and gestured to a chair.

"Afternoon Lana, how have you been since this morning?"

The conductor sighed, and waved her hand at the pile of paperwork. "Completely snowed in. You wouldn't believe how much trouble it is to book concert halls. Yourself? How was your coffee with Mr. Edgeworth?"

Phoenix shifted in his seat.

"If I'm honest, that's what I've come to speak to you about."

She sank back into her chair, lacing her fingers. "I thought so. What happened between the two of you?"

The violinist sighed. "I just don't know what to do about him Lana. I tried to make conversation, be sociable, but he's just not having any of it. It's not just him being antisocial, he's actually _rude_, and doesn't even try to mask the fact he obviously hates me."

He finished his rant as Lana held up a finely manicured hand, drawing her thumb and index finger together, in a silencing motion.

"I understand. Miles is... Difficult. I knew he would be even before he came over here. He comes from a very, _perfectionist_ background, and most of the time, if it's not musically-related, he just isn't interested. Its how he is, and how he's been brought up to be. Striving to maintain perfection throughout all his endeavours. Franziska is the same. And that is the reason that I choose to give you the solo and not her, even though she is also more than capable of performing it."

Phoenix shifted uncomfortably. "I really don't understand Lana, like you said, Franziska is more than capable of playing the solo, and on top of that, she and Edgeworth would probably get along like a house on fire. They _like_ working on their own and being moody!"

Lana just shook her head, "I want him to learn while he's with us. I want to break this shell, this drive for perfection. Of course I want him to perform at the highest level, I want him do the Orchestra proud. But he needs to break free of this idea that music is just about how good you are as an instrumentalist. Franziska won't teach him that. But you will. You have a passion for music, which conveys to your audience when you play, you're not a robot. Hopefully your innate, natural ability to captivate an audience will rub off on him."

She sighed, running her hand through her long hair. "I know it's going to be difficult, but you will pull through this! You've always been a turnabout, making the worst scenarios work for you! Besides, prehaps you'll also learn a few things from him?"

Phoenix slammed his hands down on the arms of his chair, "How can I possibly learn from him? What can he possibly teach me? And regardless of that, he is so arrogant and self absorbed that he doesn't listen to a word that I say!"

Lana shushed him quietly "Then maybe you should listen to him. Just stick it out for me, please?"

The violinist sighed, "Fine. I will. Just answer me this; How did you know who Edgeworth was? And know that he'd be such a stick in the mud?"

The conductor laughed softly, sounding like almost a melody in itself. "I suppose I can humour your curiosity. I had never met Miles in person before he arrived here in the US. But I have seen him perform many times. Grossberg sent me over to the UK about six months ago to watch the Hallé in order to pick out potential candidates for the swap we were planning. We wanted to pick someone that we believed we would learn from, but also, someone who would learn, and benefit from their time with us. We had drawn up a list of potential players who fit this description, and in particular, Grossberg asked me to watch for Miles, and see how he performed. Grossberg had read a lot about him in the papers, and wanted to know if the rumours about the prodigy cellist were true. It turned out that all of it was true, both the compliments and the criticisms. So we decided to choose him for our swap, to try and help him improve as a player. Satisfied?"

Lana adjusted herself in her chair, and leaned forward to press the intercom "Miss Potter, would you mind brewing some tea for me please? I'm rather parched." She looked over at Phoenix questioningly, who quickly waved his hands, in a 'no thanks, I'll be leaving soon' manner.

True to his word, as Lana finished talking with Heather, Phoenix stood up to take his leave.

"I really appreciate this Phoenix."

He turned and smiled, "No problem, I'll loosen the stiff up for you, he'll be one of us in no time!"

Lana laughed again, "I hope so Phoenix, I really do. It'll work wonders for him."

"Just one last thing Lana,"

She looked at him questioningly.

"How did you know it was me when I knocked?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "Because very few people come up to my office, and you have a very... Distinctive, shall we say, knock Phoenix, I always know it's you."

He laughed at her, and shut the door behind him, nodding politely at Heather, who was balancing her tray of tea and biscuits, as well as some documents for Lana.

His shoes clacked against the polished floor once more as he made his way out. However, this time they were matched by another pair of footsteps. Phoenix looked up, and saw none other than Franziska walking towards him, a smug, triumphant look plastered across her face. She came to a halt, standing in front of him, looking up at him with one hand resting on her hip.

"Well, well Phoenix Wright, you are a bigger fool than I thought you were. I would've given you at least a week before you went running to Lana begging to have the solo given to someone else, but it would seem that a pathetic excuse for a fool such as yourself can't even manage that!"

She flicked her short hair over her shoulder, and shook her head at him.

"I was on my way here to suggest to Lana that I am more than capable of playing the violin solo in the Brahms, and would be a better candidate for it because not only am I a better violinist than you, I would play it better than you. But it seems you've already done my work for me. All I have to do now, is go in there and offer my perfection. It truly is a shame; I would've liked to have won the concerto off you fair and square." She laughed slightly to herself, Phoenix found himself comparing the sound to that of fingernails being dragged down a chalkboard. Such a contrast between Lana's laugh and Franziska's.

"No matter, this isn't about a foolish fool anyway. This is between Miles Edgeworth and myself."

Up until this point, Phoenix was more than prepared to let whatever Franziska said drop, he had more things to worry about, and a little part of him found amusement in the idea that not telling her he still had the solo meant that she was about to run straight into embarrassment with Lana, but something about that last comment of hers made him stop.

"What do you mean this is about you and Edgeworth? You've never met the guy before!"

Anger flashed across her eyes before it was covered by a smug grin. "Oh really Phoenix Wright? I suppose you truly are a fool. Why else would you say something so foolish? You may have not met Miles Edgeworth before, but you forget so easily that I certainly have."

Phoenix's eyes narrowed, remembering her words from the other night. Regardless, just what was she trying to imply? He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly hushed as Franziska continued her tirade.

"Foolish people like you just wouldn't understand what it takes to become perfect. You don't understand that perfection isn't gained, it is _maintained. _Those destined to reach perfection are _born_ with it."

Finding his voice once more, Phoenix glared at her. "Is this what it's all about? Being _perfect_? Trying to take a solo from someone just to play with some guy just because you worry that maybe, just maybe he MIGHT be better than y-"

"Miles Edgeworth is NOT better than me!" Phoenix was taken aback by the sheer anger in her voice. "He never will be! It's about time that the world knew and understood this. I do not need that solo to prove I am better, I am already better than him. I want to show the world that even training at one of the world's most prestigious conservatoires does not perfection make."

With that, she stalked off in the direction of Lana's office, her heels clicking angrily against the tiles. After hearing that, the violinist was almost too afraid to tell her the solo was still his.

He'd let her find out the hard way. While her story, from a certain view was almost, touching, she still wanted that solo for entirely the wrong reasons, and he was beginning to see why Lana refused to give Franziska the solo. She wanted it for selfish reasons, to prove something, whereas he wanted it to give something to his audience, an experience that Franziska wasn't interested in giving.

This realization gave him a new drive. It strengthened his resolve.

That solo was his.

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Phoenix Wright or any of it's characters, that right will sadly, never be mine. However, the plot, is mine :)<p>

A/N: Again, any thoughts would be greatly appreciated :3


End file.
